"Twou Manti Pa Fon": The Hole of Lies Isn’t Deep

 Introduction & Background 

Understanding the Issue

The United States has often been described as a melting pot throughout history; while this is intended to be a positive sentiment, the melting pot of identities in the American culture is tainted. Much like a child eating soup, certain aspects (or identities) within this melting pot of society have been prioritized over others. Just a child may cry that they don’t want the vegetables in their soup, society has rejected and marginalized individuals that do not fit the dominant power class. Traditionally speaking, this power class is white, heteronormative, Christian, able-bodied, rich men. While there is nothing inherently wrong with being an individual that belongs to this identity group, it must be recognized that, historically, this is the group that has been in control. Thus, this is also the group that has silenced the rhetorics of other people(s) and cultures within America. Of course, oppression is almost always met with revolution.

A prime example of this issue, one that will be used as a case study here, is the island nation of Haiti. Throughout history, Haiti has been a beacon of identity and culture representing the Black Diaspora. While Africa as a continent certainly does the same, Haiti does so in a unique way, as it does so all alone in the Western Hemisphere.

Historical Implications

Haitians already found themselves to be marginalized on a global scale from the moment the nation became free. Unfortunately, the rest of the world, the United States included, has made things increasingly difficult for Haiti. The history of this nation must be taught and understood, its culture be respected, so that ultimately how Haiti has influenced the United States and the world can be recognized.

Haiti won its independence from France in 1804 in humanity's first successful slave revolt, becoming the world's very first Black Republic. Haiti was also the first nation in the world to ever outlaw slavery, doing so immediately upon their independence. Before gaining their freedom, however, Haiti was a highly coveted colony of France. Throughout the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries, Haiti remained one of the most profitable colonies in the entire world. While much of this value was attributed to the scale of slavery at hand, the island was also abundant in natural resources such as diamonds, gold, sugar, coffee, fruits, fish, and rice. This successful (and expensive) revolution forced France to offload their assets in the Western World, against their wishes, making way for the Louisiana Purchase. Without Haiti's revolution, land that makes up 16 of the 50 United States (32% of the nation’s states) would still belong to France as colonies today. The Haitian Revolution, in many ways, paved the way for European colonizers to lose their power in the Western World. Haiti became a beacon of hope for the Caribbean and South America, even sending soldiers to fight in other countries’ revolutions and offering asylum for revolutionary figures like Simon Bolivar. While the role that Haiti played in winning freedom for the Western World has been forgotten by Haitians, the rest of the world does not seem to remember.

 As if the atrocities committed by Europe had not been enough, after the revolution, France asked for Haiti’s leader, Toussaint L’Ouverture, to come to Paris to negotiate peace. Upon his arrival, Toussaint was immediately jailed without food or water, where he soon passed away. In the aftermath of their war crimes, France then demanded that Haiti pay reparations for the "lost cargo" France had given up in their slaves and colonies. As monstrous as this may seem, America, Spain, and England all sided with France and threatened to invade Haiti should they refuse, as they were fearful that their slaves may see Haiti as a caveat for change. The amount "owed" to France by Haiti to be recognized as a nation would amount to billions of dollars in modern currency, larger than the size of Haiti's entire economy to this day. The eventual payment amounted to nearly USD 1 billion - finances that Haiti's infrastructure, government, and citizens had stripped away from them - the evidence of which is still clear. The consequences of these reparations are still apparent and prevalent within Haitian society today, as the debt created an insurmountable ecosystem of poverty that has persisted across generations.

In 1915, an American invasion of Haiti began. In 1919, Haiti's president was mysteriously assassinated and the country fell into turmoil. In the midst of this, the United States military sent Marines into Port-au-Prince, Haiti - the nation's capital. These US Marines massacred nearly 3,000 Haitian men, women, and children - claiming the city for America and beginning the United States occupation of Haiti. This colonization was not short-lived, as the United States continued their occupation of Haiti for decades afterward. While America claims to have ended to occupation in the mid 1930s, a heavy American military presence remains in Haiti still. Even today, presidential elections are not held in Haiti without the oversight of the United Nations and the American government. In recent years, Jovenel Moise, the president of Haiti, was assassinated by individuals who identified themselves as American DEA agents. There were even several American citizens arrested in connection with the murder. Several years have passed in Haiti without an organized government, but due to American oversight and decision making, nothing is being done. As thousands of Haitians attempt to flee and seek asylum in America, they are being turned away.

Despite all that Haiti has done to be a beacon of hope and strength in the world, it has been continually held down and oppressed by other nations, such as the United States. In this case, how does America have any right to deny asylum to citizens of a country that America has driven into turmoil? These people flee the circumstances that were enabled in their country by America - why should America not be responsible for providing these people with the help that they need?

The Root of the Problem The Importance of Rhetorics

When considering rhetoric, its history, and the many theories associated with the discipline, it is important to make note of the historical forces and effects that have played a role in this societal discussion. Rhetoric is often seen as the many ways in which people communicate with one another, and how those methods relate to our identities as individuals within a larger societal unit. However, in many cases, particularly in the Western world, the messages and identities of Euro-centric individuals are far more represented, elevated, and distributed as truth. This is dangerous as it shows blatant disregard for certain members within society who do not fit the mold of dominance; it also shows a lack of understanding of human history, and a willful ignorance pushing back against progress. Whether through assumptions, biases, or even intentional misconceptions, the voice of “truth” in our society has not been diverse and thus has not been real “truth” for many people.

For individuals with intersectional identities, this is even more of an issue; these people have already been marginalized within society, often making their voices more difficult to be heard. Perpetuating rhetoric that does not consider their identities is disrespectful, harmful, and can sometimes even lead to violence. This gap is almost always linked to the identities of individuals, which creates another link between this issue and societal rhetoric. Sexual identity, gender, and race can all be factors that society uses to classify a person’s identity. Traditionally in the Western world, the rhetorical narrative has ben dictated and controlled by straight, white men. This has created a tilted power structure, built upon a foundation of white supremacy and misogyny. Cracks within a building’s foundation can cause the entire structure to fall - these are issues of great importance within our society today which require and deserve our attention.

The effects of this structure can be seen all across society today. From Presidents using harmful rhetoric in discussions of other nations to rich, white executives using racist language and terminology (Blake, 2018) - the issue has persisted throughout the lives of us all. Racist and homophobic rhetoric has been intertwined within our academia, government, media, and even religion. In many ways, this harmful rhetoric has invaded every area of our lives. Rhetoric, of course, plays a role in nearly everything people do (Doyle, 2008). Allowing our societal rhetoric to turn hateful and damaging is like a disease that will surely spread through the whole body. Now, in order to cure the body, one must return to the root of the issue. This cannot be done, and an understanding cannot be fully had, without examining first the historical implications of rhetoric within the Western world, its evolution over time, and ultimately, its effects.

In Karma R. Chávez’s Beyond Inclusion: Rethinking Rhetoric’s Historical Narrative, a connection is made between societal rhetoric and citizenship. Essentially, citizenship to a place can be felt and experienced through a shared rhetoric. When someone can see their own rhetoric, and thus identity, reflected on a societal level, a sense of membership and belonging is attained. This is a right and freedom that all people deserve - to feel wanted, to feel respected, to feel at home. The rhetoric that people use plays a huge role in this; the divide that can be seen in American culture today is (at least partially) due to the harm and divide within the rhetoric seen on a societal level (Martinez, 2014).

Assuming whose voice deserves to be heard, and how they should speak, and denying equal opportunity to all people in rhetorical spaces only furthers societal division. By creating safe spaces for discourse, knowing when to speak vs listen, educating ourselves on the history of our nation’s rhetoric, and working together to empower a safer rhetoric to take hold - the societal rhetoric in America could potentially shift.

Comparative Rhetoric

A reexamination of one’s own cultural understanding and rhetorical perspective is a critical aspect of developing meaningful rhetorical spaces within society. Understanding the history of how different rhetorics have evolved, exemplifying a willingness to learn, and creating space for marginalized identities to express themselves are all a part of this process. One of the biggest factors to making this a reality is to not make assumptions, especially when coming from a position of a privileged identity. Not only can these assumptions cause real-time damage to those whom have assumptions made about them, but also in distorting historical narrative. Reframing history (and rhetoric) in this way can be damaging to not only society’s understanding of rhetoric but also to societal progress in this area. In both Thinking beyond Aristotle: The Turn to How in Comparative Rhetoric and Writing the Other into Histories of Rhetorics: Theorizing the Art of Recontextualization, LuMing Mao describes exactly this.

In Thinking Beyond Aristotle: The Turn to How in Comparative Rhetoric, Mao investigated the idea of comparative rhetoric. Comparative rhetoric is “committed to different ways of knowing and speaking and to different forms of inquiry, investigates across time and space communicative practices that frequently originate in non- canonical contexts and are often marginalized, forgotten, or erased altogether” (Mao, 2014). Essentially, it examines all of the different ways in which individuals from all different times, places, and cultures use their identities and knowledge to communicate with one another. This is different from rhetorical practices that have traditionally been dominant as there is, with comparative rhetoric, an emphasis upon investigating a vast array of different backgrounds. Thus, a much more diverse, equal rhetoric can be formed on behalf of society. It is important to note, however, that comparative rhetoric is not aiming to declare any certain rhetoric as superior or inferior to another; rather, it aims to create an open, equal opportunity space wherein marginalized rhetorics can be freely expressed at the same level and with the same respect as any other(s) (Kennedy, G., 2001).

In Writing the Other into Histories of Rhetorics: Theorizing the Art of Recontextualization, Mao again makes the case for representing marginalized communities. Referring to these groups here as “the others”, Mao argues that since these groups have been underrepresented for so long, it is even more important that they are represented now. Mao sees this process as one that will require careful consideration over time, stating that “the art of recontextualization calls on us to recognize and value the other’s heterogeneity and its own balances and counterbalances”. In this statement, Mao is reaffirming the diversity of the individuals within these communities, the intersectionality that many of them face, and the need to place value on these identities and rhetorics of these individuals. In the same way, it should be recognized that these individuals are not perfect, nor should they be stereotyped due to their identities. Each individual is still different, no matter which cultural group they belong to (Kavale, K. A., & Forness, S. R, 2000). Rhetoric is unique and personal to everyone, and while it can be heavily influenced by groups to which an individual belongs, those groups do not define the individual, their identity, or their rhetoric.

Marginalized Rhetorics

GOSSIP

In Pamela VanHaitsma’s Gossip as Rhetorical Methodology for Queer and Feminist Historiography, the features of gossip as a rhetorical methodology are explored. Essentially, three features of gossip enable it to be a rhetorical methodology.

The first feature of gossip is that it can be used as speculation to push back against a common narrative. Gossip has been given a negative connotation because of the power it holds; it has the ability to breathe life into marginalized narratives that disrupt the power structures in society. Another feature of gossip as a rhetorical methodology is that, due to its association with marginalized communities, it has created a space for these communities to be fully expressive without the fear of mainstream narratives being critical, as gossip takes place away from the public eye. Further, this also empowers these groups to retake areas in public discourse wherein they have not been traditionally accepted. Finally, gossip creates a sense of openness and equality for narratives that have been silenced to be heard. The negative connotation of gossip is that it is always untrue when often times gossip does contain factual information.

Taken together, these three features suggest gossip’s potential usefulness for feminist, queer, and still other yet unimagined rhetorical and historiographic projects (VanHaitsma, 2016). One example of this in modern society could be the use of social media platforms by politicians from marginalized communities, typically younger people. Within American politics, traditionally women, young people, and people of color have been critically underrepresented and thus their communities under funded. In recent years, however, more and more candidates have began to emerge from within these social groups, many of them using social media to connect with their supporters who are majority from the same social groups as these candidates.

RHETORICAL TRADITIONS

Another space that has been traditionally under-valued as a rhetorical space is that of rhetorical traditions, sometimes referred to as myths, traditions, or simply stories. Jay Dolmage’s Metis, Mêtis, Mestiza, Medusa: Rhetorical Bodies across Rhetorical Traditions reinforced the idea that, as a society, a rhetorical history has been chosen that normalizes and silences rhetorical bodies. In this work, by reexamining mythological stories and connecting them to other rhetorical traditions, the rhetorical power of the body is affirmed, specifically the bodies that challenge rhetorical norms. Rhetoric concerning literal bodies is typically negative when discussing those with disabilities or feminized bodies, traditionally discussing such individuals as others or as through there is something not ideal with them.

 Ultimately the argument being made is that society must strive for an embodied rhetoric through which one can persuade in their communication and writing. In doing so one must affirm, not only the possibilities, but also the true limitations of the body, advocating for a wide range of diverse body images, an awareness of body values, and a critique of the powerful, dominant, opposing rhetorics (Stroud, 2019). Society must refuse rhetorical and philosophical economies that attempt to silence or deny the body, looking for beauty in what has been labeled as a threat. This would mean admitting that the history of rhetoric (and of philosophy) is fully, strangely, and wonderfully bodied. Ultimately, rhetoric has a body; not the perfect, proportionate body but “a diverse sea of different bodies. This sea fights against imposed limitations with true physical strength in diversity, overcoming the limiting force of tradition” (Dolmage, 2009).

RHETORICS OF THE BLACK DIASPORA

It is impactful to understand the role(s) that other cultures have played in marginalizing these rhetorics historically. White savior narratives have been dominant, pushing the degradation of Africa even within the continent itself. Blackness has been seen as an issue or a distinguishing, defining characteristic rather than as a single aspect that plays a role in shaping complex identities (Browdy & Milu, 2022). American imperialism is largely to blame for this, as maintaining colonial control has been prioritized by the modern Western world. Examples of this could include the interpretation of creoles as lesser forms of French, rather than as independent, beautiful languages.

 To undo this, we just reimagine the rhetorical landscape that exists in society today (Browdy & Milu, 2022). Doing so is especially important in helping to create global diversity. It can also be extremely beneficial to individuals who struggle with their own personal identity due to the atrocities that have been historically inflicted upon black people to feel a sense of partnership and membership in the Global Black Family. The Global Black Family shares a Global Black Rhetoric (GBR), which is an overarching discourse that explicitly recognizes and engages the interconnectedness between differences among, diverse African and African Diaspora rhetorics. This can be done in theorizing new rhetorical spaces, historicizing physical places, and ultimately inclusion (Royster, 2003).

As stated in Global Black Rhetorics: A New Framework for Engaging African and Afro-Diasporic Rhetorical Traditions, Ronisha Browdy and Esther Milu state that “diversity continues to grow with the continued increase of Black immigration and Black transnationalism. In the proposed expanded field of GBR, we wonder: How might studying and teaching Black Creoles spoken in the United States, such as Haitian Creole, Jamaican Creole, and Guyanese Creole, among others, expand our understanding of Black Rhetorics? As we write this essay, we wonder, for example, why isn’t Gullah (Geechee), a Black language spoken in Florida, Georgia, North Carolina, and South Carolina, centralized in the theorizing and teaching of Black language pedagogies and Black Rhetorics, just as much as AAL? We argue that teaching Creole languages, alongside AAL, can broaden the field’s understanding of Black Rhetorics, while also contributing to the theorizing of Black language pedagogies that acknowledge language differences among Black students” (Browdy & Milu, 2022).

Fixing the Problem The Taino People

It is important to note that the Taino people were the original inhabitants of Santo Domingo, the island on which Haiti is located. Due to this, some Haitian Rhetorics and even Haitian Creole itself can be directly attributed to the Taino people as well. The name “Haiti” itself comes from the Taino word “Ayiti”, meaning “land of mountains”. In Haitian Creole, the word for Haiti is still the same as it has always been; the inhabitants of Haiti have always called it Ayiti.

As stated by Victor Villanueva in Rhetoric of the First “Indians”: The Taínos of the Second Voyage of Columbus, “We are—all of us of the globe these days—tied to the Taino in our language. And as we enter into the influences of the peoples of this hemisphere, we must remember the first Europeans met, kidnapped, enslaved, and announced as dead. These are my people” (Villanueva, 2010).

Specifically, Taino (and other indigenous) rhetorics have been marginalized by American society in direct association with the devaluation of indigenous culture and identity. This was done through a systemic targeting of natives as individuals using a wave of propaganda depicting them as “other” or “less than human” in various ways.

 There was a general lack of regard for the indigenous way of life, and the fact that different tribes and groups had different cultures from one another. This general misunderstanding of indigenous people and their culture bleeds into the representation (or lack of) of their rhetoric(s). When this is done, not only does it lead to violence and marginalization against these groups, but it also leads to an erasure of their cultures and rhetorics (Villanueva, 2010). This is damning as, without these rhetorics, our society, language, and communication would not exist in the capacity that they do today. For all of these reasons, it is imperative that indigenous rhetorics, particularly those of the Taino people, are included in the discussion about and research into American rhetorics (Villanueva, 2010).

Haitian Rhetorics

HAITIAN CREOLE

Due to the French influence over the island from the 16th century to the 18th century, Haitian people somewhat adapted to the French language of their captors. As for Haitian Creole, it is commonly described as being a French-based Creole language with most of its vocabulary inspired by 18th century French. However, Haitian Creole has also been influenced by West African languages, English, Taino, Spanish, and Portuguese. Haitian Creole is not a French language, it is a Haitian language. The true birth of Haitian Creole happened on the Haitian sugarcane plantations. It was a way for enslaved individuals to communicate with each other as well as with the French colonists who held them captive. It was not spoken in the standard French dialect of that period, and the heavy influence of African words and terms are prevalent in Haitian Creole.

While a modern French speaker might understand some Haitian Creole, the diversity in the grammar and vocabulary make it a distinct language from traditional French. It is conservatively estimated that between 10 and 12 million people in the world speak Haitian Creole today. While most of those people live in Haiti because that is about the population of Haiti, some Haitian immigrants have moved to other countries and still speak Haitian Creole. Haitian Creole is the most popular creole language in the world at the moment, as no other community of Caribbean people speaks a Creole language more widespread than the Haitian people.

It took until 1961 for Haitian Creole to be declared an official language of Haiti. Between 1804 and 1961, the only official language of the country was French, but that didn’t mean Haitians weren’t already speaking Haitian Creole. It was an underground language spoken outside of the urban environments, making it a textbook example of gossip as a rhetorical tool. Creole was used as a marginalized language that represented the embodied identities of those who spoke it; over time, this gossip was able to become more and more mainstream, and now it begins to become the mainstream. Haitian Creole is the embodiment of Haitian culture, history, and identity.

 HAITIAN PROVERBS

The Haitian Creole language is rich in proverbs and sayings which express the common sense of ordinary people in metaphorical and vivid ways. Like most examples of folk wisdom, the sayings tend to reflect a harshly realistic view of life, showing more about Haitian society and culture as a whole.

Many languages have proverbs reflecting the sentiment that you cannot judge a book by its cover, as the English saying goes. Haitian Creole is particularly rich in such sayings, which reflect both pessimism and realism about life. Some of them are as follows:

• Bèl dan pa di zanmi: A lovely smile may not be that of a friend.

• Bèl antèman pa di paradi: A beautiful funeral may not lead to heaven.

• Bel fanm pa di bon menaj: A beautiful wife does not mean a happy home.

There are cynical or realistic sayings reflecting the fatalism of a culture and a people who have been oppressed throughout the entirety of their history.

• Nèg rich se milat, milat pov se nèg: A rich (black) man is a mulatto, a poor mulatto is a (black) man

• Ravèt pa janm gen rezon devan poul: A cockroach does not have more reasoning than a chicken, meaning that the arguments of the powerful will always win (money talks).

There are unflattering sayings about other nationalities in the folklore lexicon of many countries. For example, the English talk about somebody ‘Welshing’ on a deal, meaning they have failed to honor it. The Haitians say:

• Li pale franse: He speaks French, meaning he is dishonest or a con man. In the case of the Haitian phrase, the reference is of course to the dominant, colonizing, slave-owning race, while the English phrase refers to a race which historically has been the underdog. Where inequality between races is endemic, there will probably always be harsh judgments and prejudice born of suspicion flowing both ways between the races. However, it is interesting that Haitians do not step on classes of people that have already been held down, rather, they push back against the oppressor.

• Pale franse pa di lèspri ou: Speaking French doesn’t speak to your spirit, meaning ’Kind hearts are more than coronets’ or ‘sisters under the skin’, but with a message of equality between races rather than classes

• Sak vid pa kanpe: An empty bag cannot stand up, meaning that a person cannot work without the fuel of food inside them. It is interesting to compare that saying with the nearest English equivalent, ‘The laborer is worthy of his hire.’ The Haitian proverb refers to the need to feed a worker to fuel his or her work, whereas the English equivalent is an appeal to justice and respect for the dignity of labor. This is reflective of the root of Haitian society, as work is expected to be done for the good of everyone, rather than being something to be rewarded for doing.

• Kay koule twompe soley men li pa twompe lapil: A leaky house deceives the sun but not the rain. This example is a proverb in the truest sense of the word, in that it conveys by metaphor a truth everyone can recognize, but it is very hard to paraphrase, like poetry.

 HAITIAN VODOU

Tracing back to the 1600s, Vodou was founded as a unifying religion among enslaved Africans who had previously practiced different spiritual systems in their respective ethnic groups on the continent. Vodou is also known as Vodoun, Voodoo, and several other variants. It is a syncretic religion that combines Roman Catholicism and native African religion, particularly from the religion of the Dahomey region of West Africa (the modern-day nation of Benin). Yet, since its inception, it has been dogged by propaganda that paints it as diabolical sorcery.

In his observations of the Africans living in Saint-Domingue (which would later become Haiti), the Martinican enslaver Médéric Louis Élie Moreau de Saint-Méry wrote, “In a word, nothing is more dangerous, according to all the accounts, than this cult of Vaudoux. It is founded on the extravagant idea, which can be made into a terrible weapon, that the ministers of the said being know and can do anything.” That characterization has endured for centuries, with modern-day popular culture depicting the religion’s followers as people who engage in black magic or demon worship. One of the most common portrayals of Vodou in American films, for instance, is that of evil spells cast by practitioners using needle-poked dolls, a falsified representation of Vodou rituals.

Vodou began when African slaves brought their native traditions with them as they were forcefully transported to the new world. However, they were generally forbidden from practicing their religion. To get around these restrictions, the slaves started to equate their gods with Catholic saints. They also performed their rituals using the items and imagery of the Catholic Church. If a Vodou practitioner considers himself Christian, he generally professes to be a Catholic Christian; many Vodou practitioners also consider themselves Catholics. Some see the saints and spirits to be the same, while others still hold that the Catholic accouterments are primarily for appearance.

Vodou is a monotheistic religion. Followers of Vodou believe in a single, supreme godhead that can be equated with the Catholic God. This deity is known as Bondye, "the good god". Vodouisants also accept the existence of lesser beings, which they call loa or lwa. These are more intimately involved in day-to-day life than Bondye, who is a remote figure. The relationship between humans and law is a reciprocal one. Believers provide food and other items that appeal to the lwa in exchange for their assistance. The lwa are frequently invited to possess a believer during ritual so the community can directly interact with them. Vilokan is the home of the lwa as well as the deceased. It is commonly described as a submerged and forested island. It is guarded by the lwa Legba, who must be appeased before practitioners can speak to any other Vilokan resident.

One of the events credited as a major catalyst for the Haitian Revolution was a Vodou ceremony at Bois Caiman ("Bwa Kayiman”, meaning “woods of caiman”) (1791), a swampy, wooded area on the island. Some of the leaders of the revolution were Vodou practitioners, and it is believed that those present on that night called on all of the Vodou lwa, or “spirits,” to guide and protect them as they took up arms in resistance.

 The fallout from that hard-won liberation was swift. In the anthology, Vodou in Haitian Memory, the historian Brandon R. Byrd explains, “In a world dominated by slaveholding powers, the prevailing wisdom was that Haitians had all but eliminated their chances for future progress by liberating themselves from bondage and asserting their independence ... By the late nineteenth century, journalists, businessmen, politicians, and travel writers from the United States and Western Europe came to identify Vodou as the primary cause and the most damning evidence of Haitian barbarism.”

That scaremongering persists today, especially among the American evangelical Christians who establish churches and nonprofits across Haiti. Repeating a popular line of thought, for instance, the televangelist Pat Robertson falsely declared that the country’s catastrophic 2010 earthquake—which decimated its capital and killed hundreds of thousands of people—was caused by the Haitians who “got together and swore a pact to the devil” to attain their freedom. And recently, in videos posted to social media, Pastor Keion Henderson, who heads the Lighthouse Church in Houston, blamed poverty and disease in Haiti on “voodoo.”

Outsiders have held an oversized role in defining Vodou in the public consciousness, which has affected the way many Haitians and Haitian Americans view religion. Christian churches in Haiti have long used Vodou as a recruitment tool by presenting it as “against God.” Still, cultural remnants of Vodou are present in the everyday lives of many Haitian Christians—whether they admit it or not. A popular saying on the island goes, “Haiti is 90 percent Catholic, 10 percent Protestant, and 100 percent Vodou.”

Connection to the Harlem Renaissance W.E.B Du Bois

William Edward Burghardt Du Bois was born in Great Barrington, Massachusetts on February 23, 1868. The French origin of the Du Bois can be traced to W.E.B.’s father whose lineage can be traced to Haiti. W.E.B.’s father Alfred Du Bois was born in Haiti to an unnamed Haitian woman and to Alexander Du Bois, a free Black sailor and merchant who had traveled to Haiti in the early nineteenth century after having been raised in the United States. W.E.B.’s interest in uncovering mysteries surrounding his paternal ancestry and Haitian heritage may reflect his advocacy for Haiti during the peak years of 20th-century Haitian-US relations. Perhaps then we might consider Du Bois’ expansive vision of the Black world as having been informed, at least in part, by his biography.

In W.E.B.’s first major composition, his 1896 doctoral dissertation The Suppression of the African Slave Trade, he emphasizes the Haitian Revolution and its impact on slavery and the slave trade stating “the role which the great negro Toussaint, called L’Ouverture, played in the history of the United States has seldom been fully appreciated (Du Bois, 1894).” At a time when the United States was embarking on its imperial projects by intervening in the Cuban Independence War and was closely eyeing political unrest in Haiti, Du Bois was arguing that the Haitian Revolution had played a significant role in the abolition of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade. Moreover, he was one of, if not the first, to identify the connections between the Haitian Revolution and the Louisiana Purchase, which helped to facilitate the expansion of plantation slavery and the growing US cotton industry. This was an important, though sometimes overlooked, contribution to the quickly growing body of scholarship about the impact of the Haitian Revolution. Other of Du Bois’ writings in The Negro (1915) and Black Folk Then and Now (1939) elevated Haiti to the place of world significance before the writings of other Black thinkers and established its connections to important shifts related to slavery and freedom.

Du Bois’ later publications on the global Black world overlapped with the United States Marines’ invasion and occupation of Haiti between the years 1915 and 1934. W.E.B. Du Bois is often credited as one of the earliest voices from the United States who spoke out against the occupation, having written a letter of opposition to President Woodrow Wilson within days of the invasion. Du Bois’ never forgot about the Haitian Revolution, as his letter to Wilson recounted the country’s vast achievements to counter prevailing racist notions that the Black state was incapable of self-rule: “Hayti is not all bad. She has contributed something to human uplift and if she has a chance she can do more. She is almost the sole modern representative of a great race of men among the nations.”

Du Bois was a leading voice in condemning American imperialism abroad. Given the recent protest events in Haiti, one cannot help but wonder what he would say about the current state of US-Haitian relations. Surely he would be a vocal opponent of the US government meddling in past Haitian elections, domestic policies, and foreign relations.

Langston Hughes

During his trip to Port-Au-Prince, Haiti, in April 1931, Hughes purposefully avoided interacting with the elite Haitians and instead focused on the lives of the Haitian poor to understand the struggles of other Black people. Towards the end of his trip, Hughes reached out to Haiti’s best-known poet and activist, Jacques Roumain. Hughes believed that Roumain was one of the few Haitian elites who understood the struggles of poor and working-class Black people. Hughes’ friendship with Jacques Roumain is one example of the cross-cultural connections between Black people from the United States and Haiti during the Harlem Renaissance.

Hughes’ trip to Haiti and meeting with Roumain inspired a significant interest in each other and their work. Roumain wrote a poem about Hughes called “Langston Hughes” that highlighted his international travels and made mention of his home in Harlem. Hughes’ work and their shared critiques of the elite would also go on to inspire Roumain to write more about the proletariat struggle of Black people. Politically, Roumain like Hughes would also later become a Marxist, which would eventually lead to his imprisonment and exile from Haiti.

After his 1931 trip, Hughes wrote about Haiti many times. In an article written for The Crisis, Hughes focuses on what he calls the “White Shadows” that had fallen across Haiti and the “people without shoes.” Hughes’ discussion of “people without shoes” in this piece was meant to signify poor Haitians whose lives were drastically different from the post-Revolution Haitian elite. In this article, Hughes shared sentiments that were similar to his critiques of Black elites in the United States, reflecting the common struggles faced by Blacks in the African Diaspora. The “White Shadows” of the article is Hughes’ allusion to the US Marines who were occupying Haiti at the time. African Americans’ opposition to US-inflicted violence against Haiti helped create a sense of political solidarity between African Americans and Haitians.

In collaboration with Arna Bontemps, another well-known author during the Harlem Renaissance, Hughes published a novella called Popo and Fifina (Children of Haiti) in 1932 that depicted the life and adventures of Haitian children. Hughes also wrote a historical play about Haitian leader, Jean-Jacques Dessalines called Drums of Haiti, which was later turned into a three-act opera called Troubled Island.

Hughes’ friendship with Roumain continued in the form of exchanged letters, solidarity around political issues, and translation. In 1935, when Jacques Roumain was imprisoned for allegedly distributing radical materials in Haiti, Hughes wrote a letter for the February edition of The Crisis called “Haitian Writer in Jail” detailing Roumain’s situation and calling for support and protest from fellow Black people. With the help of Hughes, a committee was then formed to help advocate for Roumain’s release from prison.

 Hughes and scholar Mercer Cook translated Roumain’s novel Gouverneurs de la Rosé (renamed in English, Masters of the Dew) from French to English in 1947. Considered a Haitian classic, Gouverneurs de la Rosé details the story of a young Haitian man who seeks to save his community from the devastating effects of drought and erosion.

Conclusion

Throughout its history, Haiti has remained a beacon of culture, language, art, and influence, particularly for black individuals around the world. Nonetheless, Haiti has been oppressed and marginalized by humanity, devalued and underappreciated. It can be seen through its historical influence on language, culture, religion, politics, literature, and art in the Western World why Haiti is so important. Much like the art, culture, and expression seen in the Harlem Renaissance, Haitian expression beautifully depicts the pain and resilience of the nation’s history in a brutally poetic fashion. The influence of this culture and these people cannot continue to be overlooked. Many of the great artists and scholars from the Harlem Renaissance are now being appreciated for the wonder of their works; it is only right that homage is also paid to those who paved the way for Black identity and expression in the Western World. Without Haiti, there may be no Harlem. Without Harlem, there would be no America.   

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